More than just a piece in their Games
by cebyam
Summary: My name is Peeta Mellark. This is my story.
1. Chapter 1

For a few blissful moments I lie in my warm bed with my eyes closed, listening to the birds in the apple tree outside my window greet in the dawn and to the sounds of my family starting to go about the morning business downstairs. A feeling of dread hovers over me and for a moment I wonder why until I remember that today is the Reaping. How could I have forgotten? The feeling of dread settles into the pit of my stomach and I open my eyes. I glance over to the other side of the small room where my brothers empty bed is. Linden must already be downstairs helping our father. I wish I could just stay in bed all day, and for it to be tomorrow already but I know that is not an option.

'Peeta! Get up!' My mother shouts up the stairs. I groan and push the blankets off me and pull on yesterday's trousers and shirt after sniffing them. Not too bad. I splash some cold water on my face and hurry downstairs.

'Good morning Peeta,' my father greets me as I come into the kitchen. He is kneading dough on the table while Linden mans the fires and ovens.

'Morning,' I reply. Linden just nods at me and goes back to the ovens. My father stops kneading for a moment and passes me a steaming mug of tea and a fresh roll that he had set aside. I raise my eyebrows at the roll, but he just pats my hand and bids me to eat it. People think that we must eat like kings with all the wonderful goods we bake, but the reality is that we only get what doesn't sell and most of the time it's either stale or burnt. When I was small, the smells of some of the marvelous creations my father would bake would drive me to distraction. I would be so tempted to taste them but the thought of what my mother would do to me if she ever found out was enough of a deterrent. She was always liberal with her fists, but god help you if you ever ruined any of the produce. I still remember Linden's screams after she found him in the attic eating a freshly baked cinnamon scroll. That my father gives me a fresh roll today is a nod to the fact that it is the reaping. I think he must feel sentimental, and I don't blame him. Two of his sons are eligible today - my oldest brother made it through his reaping years unscathed. This will be the last year Linden is eligible. I am sixteen though. Three more reapings to survive before I can breath easily again.

I grab my apron just as the door opens and my mother comes in followed by my eldest brother, Kersen. This may be the day of the reaping, but it's business as usual for us Mellarks in the bakery. Most other people - the miners and other tradesmen, have a rest day, but we never do. People still need to eat, and we need to provide them with their food to be able to feed ourselves.

My mother acts as if it is just another day. I watch her out of the corner of my eye, wondering if she really doesn't care, or if it is just her way of dealing with the stress.

We all go about our jobs - I have cakes to decorate and I quickly loose myself in them. I jump when my father comes up behind me and touches my shoulder.

'It's lunch time Peeta, come and eat.'

We all sit around the small table. It is just a simple meal - the real feast will be tonight. We are meant to celebrate the Games, but in reality all but two unfortunate households will be celebrating their children not being selected, for being given another years reprieve before the whole disgusting circus is played out again next year. I notice a squirrel in the larder and am jolted. I wonder if it came from her.

No one really speaks during the meal, we are all wrapped in our own thoughts. I think about Katniss Everdeen and how the odds will not be in her favor today. She will have taken tesserae since her father died and she was old enough to. I know she has at least one younger sister.... five years... that is at least twenty pieces of paper with her name on it in that ball, possibly more if there are other siblings that I don't know about. Way too many for comfort. I am relatively safer - I have never had to take tesserae and there will only be 5 slips of paper with Peeta Mellark on them. But it only has to be one slip that is selected. I try to think about something else. Worrying about it will not stop or affect what will happen at the reaping. I think about Katniss. I have loved her for almost as long as I can remember. It probably sounds strange. I don't think she even knows who I am, but ever since the first day of school when my father pointed her out, I have been captivated by the girl in the red dress. Every year I make a resolution to myself that I will talk to her, introduce myself. But I never do. I have tried to distract myself with other girls, but it always comes back to her.

Time has that way of speeding up when you are dreading something, and before I know it, Mother is standing up and packing away the lunch leftovers and shooing us off to get changed. Kersen gives both Linden and I encouraging slaps on the back before going back to his little house that he shares with his wife and new baby to get ready.

I follow Linden up the stairs and into our room. He goes to the chest in the corner where our good clothes are kept and throws a pair of dress pants and a shirt that used to belong to our father. We dress in silence and then look each other over.

'You have flour on your cheek,' he says to me. I hastily wipe it off before telling him his fly is undone.

'Boys! Come on!'

We race each other down the stairs and stand before our parents while our mother gives us the once over. She is wearing a pretty green dress and for once doesn't look like she's gone prematurely grey with all the flour in her hair. The thought crosses my mind that she would actually look quite pleasant if only she would wipe that scowl off her face.

'Alright, I suppose you look presentable. Now come on, we'll be late if we don't hurry,' she says as she ushers us out the door. There is no need to lock it. Everyone will be in the square.

We briefly stop to collect Kersen and his wife Mellie. Mellie smiles at me and asks me if I want to hold the baby, Daisy. She is such a happy baby. In a way she makes me sad for this is not a happy world and I dread the day when she realizes this and stops smiling. I carry her for a bit, before Linden says that he wants to hold her. I see Kersen smirking out of the corner of my eye. Linden is not exactly known for his caring nature, but Daisy brings out a gentle side of him that I think we were all surprised to see.

Before I know it we are in the square, lining up to sign in and Linden is passing the baby back to Mellie. Our father smiles reassuringly at us and says that he will see us afterwards. Kersen gives us both another pat on the back and Mellie hugs us both and wishes us luck. I look at Mother but she is staring off into the distance. Once again I can't be sure if it's because she doesn't care or because she does.

Linden grabs my arm and we walk towards the roped off areas for the twelve to eighteen year olds to stand. I tell Linden that I'll see him later as I leave him in the eighteens area. I make my way over to the sixteens and quickly spot some of my school friends. Joss, Harken, Cory and Moris all nod at me and we start talking about inconsequential things, anything but the reality that possibly one of us will be sent to our deaths today. My eyes rove over the crowd until they are drawn to her, to Katniss. She looks beautiful. Her hair is not in its usual practical braid, but up in a beautiful design. Sh is wearing a blue dress, but I can't see much of it through the crowd. I notice that I'm not the only one looking at her. She is oblivious to it though, as usual. The square quickly fills up and people are being directed to side streets to watch from screens when the clock strikes two. Business time.

The crowd goes quiet and I turn my attention to the podium in front of me. There are two large balls - the reaping balls. They have small pieces of paper on them with our names. Five have my name on them. The mayor of our District, Mayor Undersee stands and starts to give the speech that he gives every year. I tune out while he reads it, I have heard it so many times and it never changes. I try to stop myself from looking at Katniss, but my eyes can't seem to help themselves, and then I feel horrible for thinking about love during the reaping.

Finally the mayor finishes his speech and reads the very short list of past District 12 victors. Two. We've only ever had two. Hallie Porter who won the 27th Hunger Games and Haymitch Abernathy who won the 50th. Only Haymitch is still alive today. This year is the seventy-fourth games, plus one of the Quarter Quells where 4 tributes were chosen. That's 150 kids who have gone off on the tribute train for the entertainment of the Capitol and only two have ever returned. Two. Your odds are not good if you're from District 12 evidently.

Our sole surviving victor, Haymitch, choses this moment to stagger onto the stage, hollering something unintelligible. He's a bit of a joke really. Always drunk and mostly harmless. Today is no exception. If anything he seems to be more drunk than usual. The crowd gives him a token applause but this only seems to confuse him. He launches himself at Effie Trinket, the Capitol escort and gives her a huge hug which she tries to fend off. I can't help but laugh, and I'm guessing that most of Panem is as well. Her pink hair must be a wig - it's slightly off centre now.

I almost feel sorry for the mayor, he looks so distressed. District 12 will be the laughing stock of the nation, but hey, what's new? He tries to salvage to situation by quickly introducing Effie Trinket. She is as bright and bubbly as ever, I don't know how she does it. She gives her signature, 'Happy Hunger Gams! And may the odds be ever in your favour!' and then says what an honour it is to be here, but we all know that she's itching to be promoted to a better district, especially after today's encounter with Haymitch.

'Ladies first!' trills Effie. It is time for the drawing. She stands in front of the glass ball with all the girls names and pulls out a slip of paper. I find myself thinking 'Not Katniss, not Katniss, please not Katniss,' and I breath a selfish sigh of relief when Effie calls out Primrose Everdeen. It's not Katniss. I look over at her but the sight is not comforting. She looks shocked, horrified, frozen. A wisp of a girl with blond hair starts walking towards the podium from the twelves area. There is a grumbling in the crowd as there always is when a twelve or thirteen year old is chosen. But I can't tear my eyes away from Katniss. She sways and starts to fall but a boy from the Seam who is standing behind her catches her.

Oh no. Primrose Everdeen. Everdeen. Katniss Everdeen. I look again at the little girl and recall seeing her with Katniss. It's her little sister. Poor Katniss. Poor Primrose. Then Katniss does something that I don't expect but that doesn't really surprise me. She runs forward calling out 'Prim! Prim!', the crowd parting before her, and catches Prim before she gets to the podium and sweep her behind her, protecting her.

'I volunteer! I volunteer as tribute!'

No. No it can't be. Katniss can't go to the Games. But it is. This isn't just some nightmare, it's real and Katniss Everdeen, the girl in the red dress, is being ushered up onto the stage. I just stare at her. I barely comprehend what Effie Trinket and the mayor say next, but I'm jolted back to reality when Effie Trinket asks for everyone's applause and no one claps. Not a single person. There is just silence. I look around me, impressed with my district, and I catch Gale Hawthorne, Katniss' hunting partner, touching the three middle fingers of his left hand to his lips and holding them out to Katniss. Without thinking I do the same, Joss, Harken, Cory and Moris look at me and then repeat the gesture, and before I know it everyone is doing it. It means thank you, it means admiration and it means good bye to someone you love.

Goodbye Katniss. I love you.

We are brought back to reality by Haymitch. Drunk, hopeless Haymitch. He staggers across the stage and buts his arm around her shoulders and I wish it was me putting my arm around her, comforting her. He starts to yell into the camera, but my eyes are all on Katniss until Haymitch actually falls off the stage. I am still watching Katniss though and I see her compose herself while the camera's are all fixed on Haymitch lying unconscious on the ground and I am grateful to him for something.

Haymitch is soon whisked away and Effie is trying to get everyone's attention again. It's time to draw the lucky boy tribute. I hardly have time to think about it before she withdraws the first slip she touches and calls out the name.

'Peeta Mellark!'


	2. Chapter 2

_It's time to draw the lucky boy tribute. I hardly have time to think about it before she withdraws the first slip she touches and calls out the name._

_'Peeta Mellark!'_

That's my name. Me. She's called my name.

I just stare at her for a moment as she scans the crowd looking for the new tribute, looking for me. Me. Peeta Mellark. They're waiting for me to walk up. My limbs feel heavy and I can't seem to move. I feel hands gripping my shoulders and arms and turn to see my friends with equally stricken looks on their faces. I glimpse Linden looking frantically at me and I shake my head at him. I don't want him to volunteer for me, and I'm not sure he would anyway. Easier for me to say no before saying anything. Somehow I find the will to move my heavy legs and the crowd parts before me. I try to hide my emotions but I don't know how well I'm doing. I keep my eyes on Katniss and the stage as I make my way through the crowd and I am grateful that my legs are steady as I climb onto the stage and take my place.

Effie calls for volunteers. I see some people glance and stare at Linden but thankfully he remains quiet. This is normal for District 12. Katniss is a rarity.

The mayor starts reading out the long, dull Treaty of Treason like he does every year. But every other year I am watching from the crowd. Now I am standing near him on the stage and I take in even less of it than usual. My heart is beating too fast.

I know that I am going to die. I could never kill Katniss. She has no idea how I feel about her. I don't think she even knows who I am. If I want to put a positive spin on this horrible situation, at least she knows my name now, and I will finally speak to her. But it's hard to be positive when you are staring forced death in the face. Execution almost, for a crime that I didn't commit. That none of us committed. And now we will be forced to fight to the death and only one of us can survive. I decide there on the stage as the mayor drones on and on that I will do all in my power to make sure Katniss is the victor. I want Katniss to come home.

I am slightly surprised at my resolve, that I would choose death over the life of a girl that I have never spoken to. I sometimes wonder what I would do in extreme situations. Would I have volunteered to save Linden if he had been reaped? I honestly don't know, and now I never will. Yet I don't hesitate in my vow to save Katniss. Why does she mean so much to me?

I don't have an honest answer for that.

Before I know it the mayor has finished his speech and is motioning for Katniss and I to shake hands. I look directly into her eyes for the first time. She doesn't look afraid, but I give her hand what is meant to be a reassuring squeeze. I'm not quite sure who I am trying to reassure though. Her eyes give nothing away.

The anthem of Panem starts to play and we turn back to face the crowd. The moment it ends the Peacekeepers come and escort us into the Justice Building. We are directed into different rooms to wait for our friends and family. We are allowed one hour, one measly hour to say goodbye to our old life.

I have never been in the Justice Building before. I am momentarily shocked by the lavish furniture and carpets and can't help running my fingers over the chairs. I don't know what the material is, but it feels so strange and nice to touch and it distracts me for a moment.

My family come in first. My father crosses the room quickly and folds me into his arms. I don't resist. After a long moment where I draw comfort and strength from my fathers strong embrace, I let go and look around. My brothers both look stricken. Kersen has his arms tightly around Mellie who is quietly sobbing into Daisy's hair. My mother is just staring at me, and as usual I can't read her expression. We all sink down into the comfortable chairs and couches, and I reach for Daisy. I hold her tightly on my lap. I don't know what to say, and it seems like no one else does either. Mellie is still sobbing and my father looks like he is choking on something.

'Peeta,' Linden starts. 'I'm sorry, I should have volunteered. I'm sorry I couldn't do it, I'm -'

I cut him off. 'Don't Linden. I didn't want you to.'

My mother can't seem to stay still. She stands up from her seat beside me and goes over to the window, looking down on the street.

'Well, maybe District 12 will finally have a victor.' I look up at her, we all do, but she's not looking at any of us. My heart swells with a happiness I can't describe that she thinks I could make it, I could win. Then she shatters it. 'She's a surviver, that one.' She doesn't mean me. She means Katniss. Not even my own mother thinks I can win.

'Greta,' my father frowns at her but she just shrugs as if she's already given up on me. I bitterly wonder why she even came to say goodbye.

Mellie grabs my hand and squeezes it. 'Please come home Peeta, please come home.'

Kersen puts his large hand over Mellie's and mine and looks into my eyes. 'You can do it little brother. Be smart. I know you have a few brain cells up there somewhere. Learn what you can in training and come home!'

Daisy starts to cry. I'm holding her to tightly. I stare at my father, my gentle wonderful father. Long past is the time when I thought my father could fix anything, although I wish he could fix this.

'Peeta… I wish you didn't have to do this. I wish I could do something. I…' A tear rolls down his cheek and suddenly I am crying the tears that I have been trying to hold in since my name was read out. He leans over to hug me again, and then everyone is holding me apart from our mother. She just stares out the window.

My father starts talking. 'Don't let them change you. Don't become someone you're not. You are a good person Peeta. Don't let them take that away from you.'

Too soon a Peacekeeper is there telling us the time is up. I can't seem to stop crying. My brothers, my sister-in-law, my niece, my mother, my father - I will never see them again. I can't promise them that I will come home because I know I won't. They all give me last hugs, last bits of tearful advice and sometimes I'm not sure who is comforting who more. Regretfully I hand Daisy back to Mellie. It suddenly strikes me that I won't be able to watch her grow up and what I'm loosing hits me hard again.

My father is the last to leave the room and he asks me to promise to try and win.

'I can't Dad, I… Katniss… I…' He smiles grimly and holds his hand up.

'I understand. But please promise me that if something happens to her, then you will not give up, you will come home.' I nod. 'I love you, Peeta.' He gives me one last big hug and then he is gone.

'I love you too, Dad.'

I never said that enough.

I sit down again and try to get my crying under control.

A few moments later some of my friends come in. Joss, Harken, Cory and Moris all come in, as well as Delly and Mira. The girls both hug me, crying. They don't think I'll come home. No one does. I don't blame them. I know that I'm not.

No one says this of course. We talk aimlessly about anything but the Hunger Games, but it hovers over us like a big black cloud.

Again, too soon, they are being led out by the Peacekeepers.

I sit alone for awhile. No one else comes.

All too soon, the Peacekeepers are back and ushering Katniss and I into a car for the short ride to the train station. I keep glancing at Katniss, but she stares resolutely out the window, ignoring me. It's understandable. She doesn't know me, I bet she didn't even know my name until an hour ago. She will assume that I am her enemy. She'll assume that I want to survive, and for me to survive would mean her death. She doesn't know how wrong she is.

We pull up in front of the station and I wonder how red my eyes must be. They will know that I have been crying. I don't care. Maybe they'll think twice about how barbaric they are. Probably not.

They make us stand for a few minutes in the train doorway, letting the cameras, and through them, all of Panem, soak up the 74th tributes from District 12. I glimpse Joss and Harken at the back of the crowd. Too soon, my last sight of home is over as we're ushered inside and the doors close behind us.

Goodbye District 12.


End file.
